Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1887-02-24
SET IN DIAMONDS.
CHAPTER /.
A LITTLE PINK HAND.

are on this"
AS she spoke, she took into her own
a little one that was a perfect model
small, beautifully formed, with pink
nush In the palma tiny hand in which
painter would have delighted, but
over which the old nurse, deeply skilled
In quaint lore, pondered with puckered
brows.
II cannot make 1t out" she said, "and
II Is the first hand that has baflied me-"
But" said her listener, "you do not
mean to say. nurse, that everything you
think you read in peoples hands comes
true?"
1T seldom falls" said the old nurse.
VI went once-I was very young then
to the house Of gentleman to take
care of his wife; she had a little son,
and In his hand l saw line fatal
wherever one finds il. 1t meant neither
more nor less than death by hanging;
yet it seemed so unlikely-a pretty, in
nocent baby with CHASTITY line fin his
little hands. could never bear to look
at them. / went often to see the child,
and found the line grew deeper and
deeper. warned the parents. | did
not dare to say what i thought. /
warned them that they must take I'M
usual pains with him; that they must
curb his temper, teach him self-control,
train him to self-disclpline. When 1
persisted, they laughed at Inc. Laughed
at me, and called me mad. Poor little
baby hands, it would have been better
II, when l was nursing him, had
folded them cold and still in DEATH"
why? What became Of him, nurse?"
asked the pretty-faeed, eager servant
girl.
"When he was twenty-one he fell in
love with the prettiest girl in the
countryside, and she loved him.
When there is beaut iful girl in ques-
ton, it is like drop OF honey, and
swarm OF. flies. She was the honey
drop, poor lassie, the men who ad-
mred her were the flies; 1t was not her
fault that they came round her. He
grew jealous. and had never been
taught self-control; he saw her walking
one day with a man whom he hated
with jealous hatred-he shot her dead.
In spite of all that money could do, in
spite of the skill of the wisest men In
the land, in spite Of all that human in
genuity could invent, he was hanged.
His mother came TO me years afterward,
white-haired, broken-hearted.
"'Why did you not tell me- she said,
what you read on my boys hand?'
III reminded her that she had laughed
at my warning, and had called me
mad"
~ should be afraid of you" said the
girl.
"Why?" asked the old nurse. 1.-The
great God gives gifts as He will; some
people look at face, read it with quick,
unerring eyes, and the whole soul lies
bare before them; what others read in
a human face, read in human hand;
why should you be afraid?"
"You would have been burned as a
witch years ago." said the girl.
"lf had lived in those days, should
have had the sense to mold my tongue"
said the nurse. mo one need fear to
speak and to say all they know in these
times" She was still holding the little
pink hand in her own. Looking at it
with earnest anxious eyes, smoothing
with the tips of her fingers the soft
pink skin. reading the tiny lines on the
little hand with wonder on her face.
iou frighten me-" cried the girl
again, "it Is enough to bring bad luck
to the baby to see you peering over its
hands like that"
II am reading book | can not I'M
derstand," she replied and there was
silence for a few minutes, unbroken
save by the singing Of the birds outside;
1t was homely scene, not without in
terest and pathos.
The room in which il took place was
large and well furnished. There was
no luxury, but every comfort-a few
pictures. plenty of books, plenty of
flowers and ornaments, with easy,
comfortable chairs. 1t was on the
ground floor, and in place of windows
there was large glass door reaching
from ceiling to floor, and which opened
into charming old-fashioned garden
veritable garden of delight, where the
sun was shining, the bees were making
honey, the butterflies were making love
and the roses reigned supreme-where
the white lilies languished, and birds
sung their sweetest songs.
The doors were opened wide, and the
wind brought pleasures from all the
flowers to the lovely little baby lying
there. In the middle of the room stood
pretty cradle; only a mothers hands
could have constructed that warm, beau
tiful little nest of pink silk and white
lace-a marvel ofindustry and elegance,
Will lONc III every lOlu, Only IlObiltT
would have had patience with all those
pretty pink roses and frills Of white
lace. A cradle SO dainty, 1t might have
been made for the daughter of queen.
Nor was the little rosebud that lay in
side less dainty or less fair. She had
only lived in this world of woe and sor-
over the baby head was the blacklist
oh hrv hn
slept all unconscious OF it. Only two
was promise Of beauty that would be
marvellous.
The little face, as it lay on the pillow,
resembled nothing so much as a rose
bud. The pretty. head shone with
glints of golden curls-the tiny brows
were clearly marked-the little features
were perfect in their angelic infantine
loneliness.
A queen lay there In that little pink
cradle-a queen by right of face that
was TO be fairest amongst the daughters
of Eve. Dainty robes Of lace and muslin
infolded the baby figure; the sun shone
on the sleeping face, the birds sung.
Perhaps baby ears hear music to which
our grosser senses are deaf. As she slept,
the baby, all unconscious of the lines
on her little pink hands-all uncon-
scious of the black shadow over her
downy head-as she slept, she smiled.
Just as throne is the center Of
throne-room, so was the pretty cradle,
with its rose silk and white lace, the
center of this.
On one side of the cradle knelt a
pretty young servant-maid; she had en-
tered the room with q message for the
nurse. and, with the usual beautiful in